“Is he mean?” Seth asked.
“Stern,” Rianne said. “He’s the best trainer here. He wants us all to live, so he makes life exhausting.”
“You can’t all live,” Seth said.
“Those who train with him fare better than most,” Per said. “But who are we kidding? Nobody makes it to a hundred games.”
“I will,” Rianne said.
“She says after seven victories,” Per scoffed.
Rianne glanced at Seth. “You have free run down here?”
“So far,” Seth said. “I’m a participant in the Games.”
“Where did you start?” Per asked.
“Stormguard Castle,” Seth said.
“I heard that contest finally ended,” Per said.
“I was part of that,” Seth replied.
“Who won?” Rianna asked around a bite of potatoes. “Shouldn’t one of you have the Wizenstone?”
“The game ended with a player sending the Wizenstone away,” Seth said.
Per grimaced. “Must have made everyone crazy to come so close.”
“I lost my memories,” Seth said.
“All of them?” Per asked.
“My whole identity,” Seth said. “Up until that point, at least.”
Per gave a soft whistle. “He’s not so different from us. The kid’s a veteran.”
“Did you lose your memories too?” Seth asked.
“Some of them,” Per said. “Do you know how it works with combatants?”
“Not really,” Seth said.
“Don’t spill too much,” Rianne said. “He belongs topside.”
“He’s a player,” Per said. “We can talk freely to other contestants.”
“You want to do favors for a competitor?” Rianne asked.
“I’ve stopped worrying about winning,” Per said.
“You’re here for information?” Rianne asked.
“All I can get,” Seth said.
“Be careful about sharing what I tell you,” Per said. “Humbuggle will get wind if you spill secrets to nonplayers.”
“I’ll be careful,” Seth promised.
“Watch what you divulge,” Rianne muttered to Per.
“What’s it matter if we help the kid?” Per asked. “Somebody else will fill him in if we don’t. And they may not shoot straight.”
“Why do you disappear right before you die?” Seth asked.
“See,” Per said. “He’s asking the right questions.”
“It’s all part of the agreement to join the Games,” Rianne said. “We can get injured, but before death takes us, we vanish. We go into hibernation and heal. And eventually we fight again.”
“You fight over and over?” Seth asked.
Per wiped his lips on his sleeve. “Until somebody wins, everyone who ever signed up for these Games remains part of the Games.”
“How often are you recycled?” Seth asked.
“Hard to say,” Rianne said. “We don’t keep all of our memories. We get assigned new personas for the arena. Did you ever wonder why so many gladiators wear masks or helms that disguise them?”
“We keep a sense of who we are,” Per said. “More or less. But each time we come back, the previous attempts become a haze.”
“Do you know how long you’ve been here?” Seth asked.
Per shrugged. “I don’t know how many times I’ve lost. More than once, I think. Maybe twice. Maybe dozens of times.”
“I hope not,” Rianne said with disgust.
“Do you remember what year it was when you started?” Seth asked.
“Hazy,” Per said. “I know I lived in Norway. I know I had two sisters. I don’t know what year I came here.”
“Those kinds of details slip away,” Rianne said. “It’s the same for all of us.”
“Except for new volunteers on their first run,” Per said. “Their memories are fine until after the first loss.”
“Nobody ever really dies here,” Seth said.
“Unless somebody jumps into the arena,” Per said. “If those impulsive wannabes die in their first fight, they die for good. If not, they have to make the same arrangement as the rest of us.”
“These Games have gone on for centuries,” Seth said.
Per looked at him with wide eyes, nodding. “You’re telling me. The fuzzy memories are probably a mercy.”
“How well do you two know each other?” Seth asked. “Do you remember one another? From previous attempts.”
Per scrunched his brow. “She and I have had this conversation.”
“Per feels familiar,” Rianne said. “But who knows?”
“We may have never been active in the Games at the same time,” Per said.
“Or we could have crossed paths a lot,” Rianne said.
“You fight until you die,” Seth said. “And then you do it again.”
Rianne raised a finger. “Unless we win.”
“Do you guys age?” Seth asked.
“I don’t know,” Per said.
“Hard to be sure without memories,” Rianne said.
“What if you quit?” Seth asked. “Like, refuse to fight?”
“They’ll send us out there anyway,” Rianne said. “There is no end to it.”
“The closest a combatant can get to an end is becoming a trainer,” Per said. “If gladiators do well enough, they are sometimes given that option.”
“Fenrick was a gladiator?” Seth asked.
“Rumor has it he was one of the best,” Per said. “Long ago he had a run where he made it to ninety.”
“Some say rumors are more trustworthy than memories,” Rianne said.
“We don’t all get vanquished at once,” Per said. “So gossip becomes a form of group memory.”
“But after some time goes by, who could contradict a false rumor?” Seth asked.
“The boy has a point,” Per murmured.
“Actual memories have some real advantages,” Rianne said.
“Any rumors I should know?” Seth asked. “Where should I look to figure out the Games?”
Per smiled sadly. “Our rumors are mostly stories about one another. We’re not working this like a puzzle, as some do. We’re trying to fight our way to the top.”
Rianne looked at Seth with sympathy. “Kid, the winner won’t be us, and, no offense, it won’t be you, either. If you know what’s good for you, walk away while you can. These Games are a bottomless pit. Once you slip, you fall forever.”
“I can’t give up,” Seth said. “Where can I go to learn more?”
“Talk to the trainers,” Rianne said. “They have had longer stretches to learn things.” She looked pointedly at where Fenrick sat eating alone. “Fenrick was civil to you. Ask him.”
“But don’t be surprised if he rebukes you,” Per added.
“Okay,” Seth said. “Thanks for the tips.”
“Don’t mention it,” Per said.
“Make your own luck,” Rianne advised.
Crossing to where Fenrick sat, Seth claimed a spot on the bench across from him. The trainer was spooning bites from a bowl of chowder. Fenrick looked
